Page 21 of Trapped and Tackled

A month ago, I wouldn’t dare not answer.

But right now, with Talon standing before me looking somewhat confused and concerned, I force myself to step onto the porch, lock the front door, and push Craig as far from my mind as I can.

Which, admittedly, isn’t very far. But it’s a hell of a lot farther than it was a week ago.

And that’s progress.

Chapter 6

Talon

She’s nervous.

As I follow her to my ride, I take in the rigidity of her posture. The clasp she keeps on her purse. Twice she reaches for the side of her neck as if searching for…what?

Is she nervous about spending time with me? Is she angry with Coach? Is it something else?

I can’t tell. But her reaction is unsettling and I don’t know what the hell to do about it. I’m going to spend an entire weekend with this woman in two and a half weeks’ time and I don’t know a damn thing about her. Except that, despite her being easy to talk to, she’s more difficult to get a read on than any other woman I’ve hung out with.

She’s both warm and reserved. Quirky and disciplined. Sweet and standoffish. The woman she is when we’re in the swimming pool—just the two of us—is different than the anxious version that emerges once a crowd forms, like in the bustling ice cream shop. I catch glimpses of two Lenis—one version echoes everything Coach shared about her and one is at odds with Coach’s stories.

My daughter’s not herself lately.

Knowing that Coach and Vicki are worried about Leni triggers my concern for her.

Leni slides into the passenger seat of my SUV and I round the front, slipping behind the wheel. I gaze over at her as I turn on the engine. “You sure you’re good?”

She clicks in her seat belt before meeting my gaze. Her smile is tight and her eyes—so damn blue—are guarded. “Yeah. Yes. I’m fine.”

I lift a skeptical eyebrow.

“I love Alberto’s,” she chatters, clearly wanting to change the subject.

Sighing, I back out of Coach’s driveway and point my SUV toward the main road. “It’s a good spot. You’ve been hitting it for years?”

“Since high school,” she confirms.

“Did you miss it here? When you were in New York?” I ask, trying to keep a conversation going. When we went out for ice cream, it was easy but something about tonight is off and I have no clue what the hell it is.

This is why I don’t do this shit. Women are complicated and that means more distractions. I’m not the type of guy who tries to figure out women’s moods. I keep my shit light. Fleeting. Temporary.

And I really don’t have any female friendships to speak of either so it’s not like I possess any insight into the inner workings of a woman’s mind. I’m happier being on the outside. At least, I used to be.

I’d be lying if I said Leni doesn’t fascinate me.

“I did,” she says on a sigh. And it sounds like the weight of the world whooshes out of her on that exhale.

“That why you came home?” I press.

Her head snaps toward me and her eyes narrow. I glance at her, confused by her reaction.

“Yeah. Why else would I come home?” She sounds defensive.

I shrug. “Just trying to get to know you, Leni.”

She sighs heavily again. “I know. I’m…I’m sorry, Talon. The truth is, I’m really embarrassed that my dad reached out to you about Marlowe’s birthday weekend. And I know this”—she gestures between is—“is you feeling bad for me and?—”

“I don’t feel bad for you,” I cut in.

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